Believe, Believe, the Dragonborn Comes
by CLAMPwhore
Summary: [A Skyrim AU:] One often tangles himself in dark affairs and lives life of his own accord; the other strives for perfection, strength, and seeks to live a life his Father would approve of. When these two paths -different in almost every fathomable way- meet, an unlikely destiny unfolds and a legend is forged. [Rated M for violence and eventual smut]
1. Prologue

**[Quick AN: This is going to be a chaptered story (with a plot and everything, promise). It's also going to involve smut at some point, so don't whine when it happens/happens a chunk of the way into the story (and not in the second chapter like every generic yaoi manga ever). Also, _Dragons_. Warnings done, please enjoy!]**

It's raining, this night. A storm growls through a purple-grey sea of thick, ever-rolling clouds, bright white lightning slicing through the dark with the calls of thunder on its heels.

Warm and safe in a sturdy home built of wood and stone, a baby's first cry drowns out the muffled claps of thunder from outside. Midwives bustle around, tending to a bloody and flailing newborn boy and his sweaty, panting mother who lies on the plush bed covered by multiple, now birth-stained sheets. A father sheds a private (and later denied) tear from his place beside the bed, his large weather-beaten hand curling around the slight, pretty one of his exhausted wife. When the bundle of warm, clean sheets and wriggling life is handed over to settle in his mother's arms and be watched under her immediately-loving gaze, a smiling midwife speaks.  
"Have you thought of a name?"  
"..Youou. His name is Youou."

* * *

Elsewhere, a young boy stumbles and skins his knee on the hard, wet rock beneath him. He doesn't feel the pain, seeing as his pale, thin legs are numb from the cold rain lashing at his skin, and he is more concerned with catching the hand of his brother again. One pulls the other up, before once again they're running with bare feet slapping against the rainy, uneven ground whilst the thunder claps on in the distance. It's a blessing when they meet grass – soft terrain easy on the soles of their small feet. They're both panting, little hearts racing as they run hand in hand, further away from the light of the village and further into the safe cover of the woods. Neither knows how long they've ran for when they both collapse against the trunk of a large tree, gulping in big lungfuls of air, shaded from the sheets of rain for a short, sweet moment. The blonde, exact mirror of his brother all except for his left leg, red and bloody from the knee down, stands up and tugs the other away from the comfortable bark, hugging him close.  
"Remember what we were told about trees in storms. Lightning likes the trees..."  
"Oh, 'Kay… Yuui, do you think they'll look for us?"  
"Yeah, but not just now. Not when it's a storm.." the one with the bloodied knee says, trying to sound confident, but he's not feeling it.

He was wrong, of course. With the storm still raging through a wide, angry sky that bellowed thunder and flashed blinding white, they only heard the heavy thuds of horseshoes on soft ground when it was too late. The guards were close. Yuui grabs his twin's hand, his own still warm from the fire he'd made in it minutes before, and the two bolt through the trees, darting this way and that but always together, clinging for their lives and their feet hitting the ground at a desperate pace to elude the threatening yells of large men and low grunts of horses that they can practically feel breathing down the backs of their smocks. Yuui chances a look back, seeing the face of a steed glaring straight at him through a leather muzzle, not far back through the grey-haze of thick rain. Its eyes are dark and liquid, eyes of a beast from a nightmare. The man on top of it wears a beaten silver-helmet that makes him look like just as much of an inhuman creature, eyes hidden under shadow. The whole world seems to go slow now, events playing through a smothering syrup, utter terror gripping at Yuui's every sense as he drinks in each and every horrific detail and the knowledge of such danger urges him to find safety all the faster. He swings his vision forward again, when he sees the tree dead in the middle of his path. With a swerve he dodges it, but immediately after realises the cosy, firm hold of Fai that is always so sure, had been lost from his hand. That moment of gripping panic is tripled when his foot jerks and slides down greasy brown muck, tripping him over for the shortest moment he would allow – hands bracing his stumble and pushing him straight back up again. He freezes, head whipping around and wet hair hitting against his face as he looks through trees and rain, wide-eyed and panicked, for Fai. He's about to scream out for him, but the air is stolen from his lungs as he clocks a blonde body being lifted by one of the armoured guardsmen behind him– limp and loose, tiny in comparison to the silver-man. Fai isn't moving.

He's dead.

With all the force he has left, Yuui holds back a strangled cry and lets his legs burst another bout of speed, tearing through the forest and detouring from the straight path as far as possible, losing himself and the men and the nightmarish horses and his brother's wilted body behind him in a labyrinth of tall trees, curtains of heavy rain, and soaked leafy-forest floor. He only stops running when he breaches the woods, somehow, what he imagines was quite a time later. The rain had gradually stopped, the storm sweeping away and leaving a clean night sky – undisturbed and quiet - as if the great swimming clouds had never even been there. The young boy wheezes in air, stuttered and broken by sobs as he unsteadily hobbles onwards, underneath his feet a cobble-stone path built into the grass. He can feel the hot tears sliding heavy down his face and the hammering of his heartbeat against his ribs, but nothing else. He's cold, and it's hard to breathe. The image of his brother's body dangling from a shiny-plated-monster's grip is seared into his eyes, and it's what he sees as he collapses in a shaking little heap at the side of the path and allows the world around him to fade to a quiet-black

* * *

"He's the very image of you…" a soft female voice, worn and tired, laughs gently.  
"Hm, let's hope he has your temperament, or we're in for a wild one," grins a man, running on a high of adrenaline and swelling pride. Neither sets of eyes can be taken from their first born, both in awe and stuck in the utter adoration of their perfect, precious sleeping son. The new parents cuddle close together on their bed, that had been stripped and cleaned– decorative furs and comfortable linens laid fresh once more by the housecarl- simply basking in the feelings that wash them over as they look at the tiny human they've created. His little meaty fists are balled tight, peeking up from the covers he's wrapped in. Plush pink cheeks are round and soft and his head is topped with brushings of jet-black-hair.  
"You did so well, love, I'm proud. Like a true warrior," the man says gently, kissing his wife's temple and sweeping long strands of coal-coloured hair back from her shoulder. She replies with another light laugh, letting her head rest on her husband's side, happy with a strong arm around her and her own arms cradling her son.

**_That night began the life of a boy, destined to play a vital role someday in his future._ **

* * *

The crackling of tinder and warm fuzz of something against his skin rouses the blonde boy from an empty sleep, his eyelids flickering apart and squinting into flames. He sits up, a cozy cover slipping from him as he looks around in drowsy confusion, trying to work out what's happening.  
"Aha, the little white fox awakes.."  
The accent is heavy and lazy, voice warm and rusty like spiced wine. Yuui looks around, seeing the owner of the voice walking fluidly towards him, a long tail winding behind the legs. Looking up, he sees the face – an amalgamation between a feline and a human, with beady eyes of bright yellow and mottled fur, the colours of sand and clay-dust.  
"How do you feel, small one?" the Khajiit man asks, kneeling down to Yuui's height and looking over him with concern. The boy is confused and disorientated, but answers as honestly as he can.  
"My head hurts."  
"Ah, understandable… Here, take this. I promise, is nothing dangerous, just something to bring you back to health," he says in his lulling voice, the little blonde hanging on to every word. He is handed a small red bottle, and after an experimental sniff, drinks the mixture. It tastes of wheat and something else Yuui'd tasted once before. The feline-man is watching now from his place seated on a wooden box, the worry etched into his furry-brows.  
"Can you remember where is your home, little fox? What is your name?" he asks, tail still curling in the air with a mind of its own. It fascinates Yuui. He'd only ever heard of the Khajiit before, never seen them.  
"…I can't go home. They want to kill me there," he answers, the blunt nature seeming to shock the creature. He then tuts, muttering something about guards under his breath, before looking back at Yuui, something like sympathy playing in his marble-eyes. Perhaps it was empathy.  
"I am sorry to hear that. I am also sorry to say that there are many in your position in this country, little fox," he speaks, the low rumble of his words relaxing the boy further. The man was kind, and easy to talk to with a nice voice. Yuui liked him.  
"Why do you keep calling me that?" he can't help but ask.  
"Hm?"  
"Little fox, why do you call me that?"  
The Khajiit laughs, and it's all hearty and rough.  
"Apologies, it was Zaynabi, the first to see you. She mistook you for a little white fox hurt at the side of the road. Since I did not know your name, that fitted well enough," he explains, the corners of his feline mouth curling in a smile and his whiskers shining white as the light from the fire catches them. Yuui blinks, taking in the tale slowly as he unabashedly stares at the man. "So what is your name? Do you remember?" he repeats, pulling a bottle out from the box beside the one he's seated on, and taking a long swig with an expectant look being aimed at the blonde boy for his answer. For some reason, the question catches in his chest, and hurts. It doesn't feel right to say Yuui. That can't be his name, not any more.  
"…My name is Fai," he tells the man, blinking slow, and his serene little expression remaining as blank and unchanged as it has been for the entire duration of their exchange.  
"…Well, Fai. I suggest you go back to resting for the night. It seems you've had a long enough day," he says, standing again only to crouch closer to the boy. "You will be safe, no worries," he assures him, and Yuui – _Fai_ – believes those reassuring words whole heartedly when he looks into the yellow-cat-eyes. He can feel the honesty from there. When the Khajiit stands and walks silently away, it becomes all too easy for the young boy to curl back under the bedroll, and after one last look at the winding, curling, lively tail that fixes his attention so, let his eyes slip closed and a more restful dark blanket settle over him.

_**That night also began a brand new path for a boy, which would lead him to the same great destiny down the line as one other. **_

* * *

**[A.N: So this is my first time writing something like this. Few firsts, actually. First ACTUAL not-a-oneshot-chapters-ahoy-story. First time writing in that weird tense/style (I don't like it. Do not know why I did it. Looks crap. Ugh. Sorry). And First time _posting_ any of my KuroFai fan-fiction****. **

**Anyw****ay, I'd like to explain some things. As I mentioned, this is a Skyrim AU, but you don't need to play the game to understand it at all. It's all self-explanatory in the story, more or less. Also, this is the boring prologue chapter. The initial chapters have to suck so that the others can be cool. (...? There's my excuse I am gunnin' with it.) Lastly, if you have time or can be bothered scraping together the effort, reviews help. Maybe tell me if the way I wrote this was as shit as it feels to me. (Pieces sound so horribly cliché, I apologise, but that's the kind of... feel Skyrim has to it. Fantasy and all that jazz, yeah?) **

**Thank you for reading, if you got this far I'm impressed. +10 respect.] **


	2. Amativ: Fai

**[AN: Again, another slow introductory chapter to lead to the inevitable actual stuff happening. Apologies if it's boring. Stuff'll happen soon, promise.]**

Sometimes, all it takes is a charming smile and a light hand.  
"Good morning, my lady. I dare say the day is almost as fine as you," he purrs lightly with a friendly smile, watching carefully as she giggles and blushes. Perfect. She's taken the bait. "Such a shame to see your neck barren of an amulet of Mara… Alas, maybe one day I'll have my chance, for I see no ring…?" The bold statement is all he needs to perfectly distract the young brunette imperial, as his hand takes a careful dip into the satchel at her side. His own blue eyes keep her browns under their gaze, the girl blinking and jittering under the sudden attention. As always, he's precise and fast, fingers skimming over goods and taking only what he can get away with. She says something flirtatiously back, and Fai only pays minimal attention, instead shoots her a coy wink to match his impish smile, before he withdraws his hand.  
"I bid you good day, my lady. Until we meet again," he sweeps with a bow, grinning as he walks easily away in the opposite direction. Child's play. Fai dangles the gold necklace from his finger, and inspects the pretty garnet in his palm that glints in the sunlight. She'd had a fairly plump coin purse in the bag, but she surely would've noticed the weight missing had he tried to take it. That's what the pickpocket was about – calculation and cunning, being smart about loot and never overestimating one's own ability. That's what made Fai such a spectacular pickpocket, too. Then again, he'd learned from the best.

Pocketing his catch, along with the other trinkets and gems from that morning's session, he found himself in a very good mood. The small square was fairly busy, the usual varied matter of people walking through, getting on with their own lives in this way or that. He could hear friendly chatter of the townspeople, the luring calls of stall-owners over the crowd, advertising their goods, and not far behind him the rhythmic clanking of metal against metal at the blacksmith's forge. It had been a successful morning, the sun drawing people out, specifically the richer ones. It was easy to tell the richer apart: their dresses were fuller, had less stitches on them, less stains. Their leathers shone brighter, the furs were less matted. They wore rings and necklaces with jewels encrusted, practically flaunting their wealth and making them unaware, glimmering targets for the keen-eyed pickpockets of Skyrim. The best part was that a good proportion of the richer ones seemed to lack a wariness about themselves, took a compliment far too easy, let their own swelling ego cloud their judgement and make it all too easy to take from them. Those were the ones that didn't _earn _their keep, the ones that stumbled upon wealth by simply living, usually the younger ones. The ones to be careful of were the elders, who were smart about the prizes they'd worked so hard to get. He walked on with a spring in his step through the little town of Whiterun, up the steps and into the plaza – in the very centre a large, dead tree stood, sprawling its branches above. There had been rumours the tree once bloomed beautifully and brought Whiterun great pride, but Fai had never recalled seeing the thing alive. The flash of a face that was posted at the trunk of the tree caught the young blonde man's attention – clad in worn silver armour and mail. Oh, dear. That was the guard that had almost caught his sly hand taking a wander into a pocket once before– he recognised the bearded, rough face. Spinning in the opposite direction on the ball of his heel, he continued his walk back the way he came, away from the bearded guard, back down the steps and through the cobblestone-path with little thatched houses at either side of him. Time to call it a morning, he supposed, pushing through the great, wooden doors that led into and out of Whiterun – a couple of guards giving him a nod as he passed.

The open air greeted him like an old friend, smell of grass and fresh sky a familiar and pleasing one. Ignoring the watchful eyes of the guards, he jumped over the high wall and fell down, landing lightly onto the roof of the watch tower below with practised skill. The soft soles of his boots padded and muffled the impact – bent knees absorbing the shock and making for a fluid, quiet landing. From up here, he could see the spread of land that sweeped over endless distance. It never failed to knock his mind, just how _free_ one person could truly be, living like this. Should the fancy take him, he could walk right over to those farms. He could ride a horse right to the far edges, clamber up towering mountains, just to see what lay over them. Anything felt possible when he saw the never-ending stretch of sky and earth. He could explore the whole of Skyrim, one day he could even leave Skyrim and travel the full of Tamriel. With a laugh, he swung himself down from the roof and into the watch tower, much to the female guard there's surprise. He gave her a firm, slightly mocking nod, running down the ramp and vaulting over it when the height was safe enough, back onto low-ground again.

It wasn't long then before he reached the Khajiit camp, tents and supplies parked just outside of Whiterun's gates, looking for the occasional customer. Ra'jiir was the first to see him, waving a paw in greeting.  
"Ah, the crafty fox returns. I assume you went for some pickings, hm?" he chuckled knowingly, that voice still the same as the day he'd first heard it, when the Khajiit had lifted him from the side of the road. This man was like a father to him, the closest thing he could think of. He'd taught him everything Fai knew, and kept the blonde like his very own son, feeding and sheltering him, even when it was hard enough for him to do so for himself alone. Fai owed him everything.  
"Who, me? Well, I don't know what you're talking about," Fai batted back falsely innocently, slipping a handful of gems and chains subtly on top of a wooden crate. "I did happen to stumble across these, though, if that's what you mean?" Ra'jiir just chuckled roughly again, shaking his head and going back to cleaning the old tankard in his hands. Zaynabi, Ra'jiir's wife, approached Fai with a sweet smile on her cat-lips, taking a slip of paper from the pocket of her worn and threadbare dress.  
"The courier delivered this, is for you from Riften," she said, her own foreign accent the same heavy vowels and lingering tongue as the other Khajiit's, only her voice was softer and less murky. Immediately the adolescent blonde recognised the emblem on the front. The Thieves Guild. Sure enough, the summons was from Vex herself, snarky tone evident even in the way she wrote.  
"I have a message to run, I'll be back in a few days, maybe," Fai announced, grabbing his long cloak from the tent and shoving a few spare potions in his satchel. The Khajiit couple were used to this, since the boy had turned a teen he'd become a totally free spirit, often visiting other cities and towns as he pleased. "May you walk on warm sands, little fox," Ra'jiir said, nodding in farewell to his pseudo-son. Literally two minutes down the pathway was the Whiterun stables, and it didn't take much time to wait for the stable-man to get distracted by something and take his eyes off the horses long enough for Fai to take a swinging leap up and steal the saddled, chestnut horse. An angry yell could be heard behind him, under the sound of heavy hooves beating against the path. Fai just laughed, loose and loud, wind sifting through his blonde hair and billowing out his black cloak as he rode off in the direction of Riften.

**[AN: Kurogane's next.]**


	3. Amativ: Kurogane

**[A/N: Amativ means "Onward" in Dragon tongue. Thought that was appropriate for the beginning of their journeys.]**

* * *

People know exactly who he is as he passes. They stare in the wake of a red cape that passes quickly, catching in the air. He has the eyes that match that same red, piercing and vivid, always unfaltering, always looking forward. Completely impenetrable. People make a point of avoiding that stare.

He strides with purpose through the town; firm, strong strides that carry him with the necessary haste to his destination. His brown leather boots with the hard soles click on cobble-stone ground, warn people that he's on his way, and already they're whispering, swept away to the sides of the walkway, steering clear of the man and hoping his appearance in the street has nothing to do with their own recent shady activities or unauthorised sales...

Kurogane Suwa: Captain of the Penitus Oculatus, most trusted soldier of the Emperor's personal guard. A true-bred Imperial through and through: easily distinguishable by the olive skin, his ebony-black hair and the sharp cut of his features. He resides in Solitude, keeping a trained and watchful eye over the people, and most importantly over their ruler. A force to be reckoned with, whether that be in spirit or in combat, either way he's a poster-figure for authority, and intimidation, and fear.

Reaching into the pocket of his leather armour, Kurogane checked the note yet again, scrawled letters on rough parchment affirming his mission in deep blue ink. Sure enough, _he_ was being sent to Riften to speak with the Jarl. It wasn't usual that he was the one sent for any affairs of a more... social nature, and for good reason. Hell, all it would take is one look down this city street to see that his very presence struck everyone with terror just at the look of him.

He'd be lying if he said that didn't please him just a little bit.

He supposed this meeting required a more intimidating approach, or even that he was the only one to be trusted with making the trip all the way across from one end of Skyrim to the other in one piece. Two guards nodded low when he reached the gates, hiding their surprise at his departure from the city beneath their helmets and showing their respect simultaneously, even opening the towering, wooden doors for him. (Funny what a reputation could do for a man, what both literal and figurative 'doors' it could open.) Already waiting for him outside at the stables was his horse - the sturdy, majestic-looking young thing flicking its glossy white mane around and making a point of showing off. Its appearances were certainly deceiving.

One (of the many, many) things in this world that pissed the soldier off was _this horse_. Also was when people called her "a beautiful grey", which was surprisingly often. He didn't give a shit about all the horse-jargon for a start, or how she acted around people: his horse was a cheeky little white shit, and she'd been that way since he was "awarded" her for good deeds or something like that. He wholly testified that this horse was the bane of his existence, despite the undying loyalty, handiness in battle and uncanny efficiency for travelling she showed on a daily basis. All that barely made up for the complete dismissal of his guidance on recurring occasion (even if they did end up where they were supposed to be, maybe even a little quicker, in the end) or pit-stops to eat the foliage despite his own very vocal protests, or the general tricky personality the damned horse had. One time she'd bucked him into a pond, and he swore her neighing was laughter.

Pulling her from her display for the other, comparatively dull looking horses, he shoved a cube of sugar in her muzzle and in one motion, hauled himself onto the expensive, oak-coloured saddle that glinted streaks of white in the light of the sun. With the reins gripped in his hand and his sword hanging sure at his side, he gave a sharp kick to the horse's sides. Giving a loud whinny and a shake of her mane, the mare started off, great legs lurching and hooves pounding against the soft ground at a sudden speed, leaving Kurogane to almost fall back and growl as he pulled himself forward again.

_This fucking horse. _

After some time, when she'd grown bored of her gallop and receded to a reasonable pace, the Imperial had some time to look around the rural sprawl of land around him and let his thoughts wander rather than focus on staying on the speeding horse. They weren't too far from the city, just having past its boundaries and the river that bordered it, into free land. He couldn't be bothered hassling with the sailors back at the East Empire Company and intimidating them into lending him a boat for a short trip, or travelling from Solitude all the way to Dragon Bridge (there were other, far more personal reasons he avoided that place as often as possible…) so on horseback his steed and himself had braved the water and swam across the river. Now with damp legs, the two travelled onwards, passing by Morthal and keeping on South-East through the full day, sun heating the air and aiding their travels.

By the time that the day had dissolved to night, sun handing jurisdiction of the sky over to the two moons, Masser and Secunda, the soldier and his horse were beginning to grow weary. There'd been a few run ins along the way, including an ambush from a small wolf pack and a fight with a most unfortunate necromancer wizard who thought he'd try his luck against Kurogane, facing a swift decapitation once he'd gotten close enough and re-killed a newly animated corpse.

* * *

_The sword cuts through the air with a whisper of speed, swinging and slicing a hollowed gash in the side of her greyed, rotting body. As she falls back into the arms of the death she'd been so rudely up-heaved from, she utters a thank you, and collapses - body scattering into fluttering ash as it meets the ground. Something cold spreads in Kurogane's chest at the sight, the distasteful magic making his skin crawl and shiver. With a feral growl, he lunges towards the cloaked mage. He can't be more than twenty, yet is so foolish as to dapple in arcane arts way past his calibre and even apply his misplaced confidence by attacking strangers? The raven haired warrior grins, red eyes glinting the very colour of the blood that pours from a newly severed neck, the end of his sword painted with streaks of wet crimson. With a thud, the disconnected head falls to the ground, rolling through rustling grass and stilling, a look of ultimate horror forever etched onto the pale face of the wizard._

* * *

Other than that, his journey had been fairly clear of issues. A bear avoided here and travellers passing there, nothing strenuous. Which is why Kurogane elected to continue on through the night and to rest once his mission was complete, only allowing his horse and himself a small couple hour's rest at a stream to drink and eat over a fire he'd made with his own hands - spell running familiarly from his fingers and into his flaming palm, catching onto the dry wood he'd collected. After the bout of recuperation (also contributed to by a bottle of mead - half drank by the Oculatus agent and the other half by his horse, that had a surprising taste for booze) they were straight off again, to travel across land under the watchful eyes of the moons, and the blue blanket of a clear night sky.

If only he'd had an inkling of what lay ahead tomorrow, maybe he'd have considered resting the night. But of course, fate doesn't quite work that way.

* * *

**[A/N: Apologies for yet another action-less situation-and-characterisation-establishing-introductory chapter of ramble. Man, I didn't even give you any back story or anything juicy- I'm just terrible. If you're still with me, then stuff actually **_**HAPPENS**_** next chapter (!?1!). Like, proper STUFF. Also, anyone have an idea what character that we all know and love our horse might parallel?]**


	4. (An Introduction to Skyrim)

_A Basic (as possible) introduction to Skyrim_

This fanfic revolves around the Elder Scrolls world, which is a series of games which I highly recommend to everyone, because it's fucking awesome. It does require a lot of explanation though, because it's literally a whole entire WORLD. Anything you get confused at in the fic, should be explained here. I recommend you read it, but if you can't be bothered I suppose it's learnable as you go…?

* * *

World and stuff

Here's the lowdown:

All of this goes down on the planet of **Nirn.** Our equivalence is Earth.  
**Tamriel** is effectively a continent,  
**Skyrim** (where the story takes place) is effectively a country. (The other "countries"* in Tamriel are High Rock, Hammerfell, Cyrodiil, Valenwood, Elsweyr, Black Marsh, Morrowind, and the Summerset Isle.)  
All the different **holds** in **Skyrim** are effectively kingdoms. Then they have capital **cities**.

The Holds in Skyrim are:

**Eastmarch **— A hold in eastern Skyrim, with its capital in **Windhelm**.

**Falkreath Hold** — A hold in southern Skyrim, with its capital in **Falkreath**.

**Haafingar** — A hold in northwest Skyrim, containing the provincial capital **Solitude.**

**Hjaalmarch** — A hold in northern Skyrim, with its capital in **Morthal.**

**The Pale** — A hold in northern Skyrim, with its capital in **Dawnstar.**

**The Reach** — A hold in western Skyrim, with its capital in **Markarth.**

**The Rift** — A hold in southeast Skyrim, with its capital in **Riften.**

**Whiterun Hold** — A hold in central Skyrim, with its capital in **Whiterun.**

**Winterhold** — A hold in northeast Skyrim, with its capital in the city of **Winterhold.**

Then there's little villages and towns and stuff:

**Dragon Bridge** — A town in northwestern Skyrim, next to Solitude. As the name suggests, there's a bridge there. With a statue/thing of a dragon.

**Helgen** — A town located within Falkreath Hold.

High Hrothgar — A small settlement/ big ass castle full of badass monks halfway up the Throat of the World.

**Ivarstead** — A small milling town located at the base of the Throat of the World.

**Karthwasten** — A mining town in the Reach.

**Riverwood** — A medium-sized town northeast of Helgen.

**Rorikstead** — A farming town in Whiterun Hold.

**Shor's Stone**— A small mining village that operates the Redbelly Mine.

Maps (take out the spaces) These'll make the fic a whole load easier to understand, especially the Skyrim one:   
Map of **Nirn**: nirn . wdfiles local-files / maps/ nirn_edz . jpg  
Map of **Tamriel**: images1 . wikia . nocookie _ cb20120706152112 / elderscrolls / images / e / e4 / Map_tamriel . jpg  
Map of **Skyrim**: images4 . wikia . nocookie _ cb20111127145803 / elderscrolls / images / 8 / 88 / Skyrimmap . png

* * *

People and stuff

There are several _races_ of people/dudes that reside in Skyrim:  
Split into three types, and to make matters even MORE confusing, they have alternate names. I'll be nice and include them all. [* = go look at the other "countries" in Tamriel if you're confused.]  
**HUMANS: **

**Breton **(Manmer) – Originated from High Rock.*

**Imperial **(Cyrodiils) – Originated from Cyrodiil. Fancy that.

**Nord **– Originated in Skyrim. Don't get another name because I suppose they're dipshits or something, I don't know.

**Redguard **(Yokudans) – Orginated from Hammerfell.

**MER/ELVES: **[in no way affiliated with mermaids. Don't get confused like I did.]

**Altmer **(High Elves) – Originated from Summerset Isle.

**Bosmer **(Wood Elves) – Originated from Valenwood.

**Dunmer **(Dark Elves) – Originated from Morrowind.

**Orc **(Orsimer, or Pariah Folk) – Originated from Orsinium [have no clue where on Nirn that is man. Just go with it].

**BEASTS: **

Argonian (Saxhleel) – Originated from Black Marsh. Lizard people.

Khajiit – Originated from Elsweyr. Cat people.

For actual decent information, consult Skyrim Wiki. Always: www . uesp wiki / Skyrim : Races  
(you know the drill, eliminate the spaces)

* * *

War and stuff

**OKAY IMPORTANT PLOT BIT:  
In Skyrim, there's a civil war going down. I plan to explain it in the story, but here it is plain and simple as humanly possible and all in the one-r:**

In one corner, we have TEAM** IMPERIAL**. These guys like to call the Civil War the "Stormcloak Rebellion".  
In the other, we have TEAM **STORMCLOAK**. These guys like to call the Civil War the "Great Uprising".

It all kicked off when **Ulfric Stormcloak**, Jarl of Windhelm, allegedly murdered the High King of Skyrim, **High King Torygg**. He then founded the **Stormcloak Rebellion**, against the **WHITE-GOLD CONCORDAT **made up by the Second Aldmeri Dominion.

For this bit, you have to understand what the fuck the **Aldmeri Dominion **is.

_[__The Second Aldmeri Dominion, known as the Aldmeri Dominion (in other words, Aldmeri Dominion, take 2:  
__The Aldmeri Dominion is the joined force of Valenwood and Summerset Isle (the Wood elves and High elves) as established by the __**Thalmor**__ (bunch of radical, crazy elves). They're rich, and basically they're whole belief is that Elves humans, and want to rule everything. So they gave it a ruddy good shot, and it started a war of Empire vs. Dominion. In the end, they signed a treaty called the __**White-Gold Concordat**__ which enforced a bunch of rules on the whole Empire. Like the First Aldmeri Dominion, they had a bucket full of power. First one was defeated by Tiber Septim, though._

_White-Gold Concordat:  
__To stop the Dominion from utterly destroying the living crap out of the Empire, this was signed to shut them up. It outlawed the worship of the __**Divine**__ (there's another thing I get to explain. Yay.) __**Talos**__, and allowed the Thalmor to go about and hunt down anyone who worshipped him. Yeah, they really don't like Talos.]_

Now back to **Ulfric**. Yeah, he liked **Talos**. In fact, a lot of the **Nords** did. So they started this rebellion against the **Empire **to fight for their right to like Talos without being brutally murdered. They think that Imperials are traitors because they're cool with the White-Gold Concordat. They also think that Ulfric should be High King.  
Then there's the **Imperials. **They think the Stormcloaks are traitors because of the apparent murder of High King Torygg, and because they want to break away from the Empire. They plan on squishing the rebellion and keeping Skyrim an Empire-loving zone, free of Talos.

_**ACTUAL RELEVANCE TO THE FIC, WOO:**_**  
Fai is a worshipper of Talos, so he's on team Stormcloak.  
Kurogane doesn't give a shit about religion **(yet)**, and knows that Skyrim doesn't stand a chance against the Aldmeri Dominion, also his parents were Imperial, so he is too.**

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And finally

Religion and Stuff

There are **Nine Divines** (gods) made up of eight **Aedra** (good gods) and the previous **human** ruler, **Tiber Septim/Talos**, who **ascended to godhood 'cause he was that awesome**. Think along the lines of Elder Scolls' Jesus. [This is why the Dominion really don't like him. He was a human, and they firmly believe that his status as a god is bullshit.]

**Akatosh** - The Dragon God of Time and the chief god of the pantheon

**Arkay** - God of Life and Death

**Dibella** - Goddess of Beauty

**Julianos** - God of Wisdom and Logic

**Kynareth** - Goddess of Nature

**Mara** - Mother Goddess and Goddess of Love

**Stendarr** - God of Mercy

**Talos/Tiber Septim **- God of War and Governance

**Zenithar **- God of Work and Commerce

Then there's the **Daedra **(like demons?). People worship them too, but it's frowned upon, and usually goes badly because the Daedra are a nasty bunch. **Daedric Princes** (biggest of the bads) are the ones people usually worship.  
Azura - The Daedric Prince of Dawn and Dusk, Mother of Roses, Queen of Twilight.

**Boethiah **- The Daedric Prince of Murder and Deceit.

**Clavicus Vile **- The Daedric Prince of Wishes and Bargains.

**Hermaeus Mora **- The Daedric Prince of Knowledge, Knower of the Unknown, Keeper of Knowledge, Keeper of Forbidden Secrets.

**Hircine** - The Daedric Prince of The Hunt, Father of Man-beasts.

**Sheogorath **- The Daedric Prince of Madness, Mad-god, Demented Duke. (this guy's a lot of fun. Just saying)

**Jyggalag **- The Daedric Prince of Order, Hatred of Madness, Enemy of Freedom. Jyggalag is in fact the original form of Sheogorath. The other princes cursed him into what he despises most out of jealousy. Sheogorath becomes Jyggalag again at the end of each era.

**Malacath** - The Daedric Prince of Curses, Keeper of the Bloody Curse, Lord of Sworn Oath, Enslaver of Mortals, Corner of the House of Trouble.

**Mehrunes Dagon **- The Daedric Prince of Destruction and Change, The Changer, Corner of the House of Trouble.

**Mephala** - The Daedric Prince of Spiders, Whispering Lady, Spinner.

**Meridia** - The Daedric Prince of Life, Enemy of the Dead, Lady of Infinite Energies.

**Molag Bal **- The Daedric Prince of Domination, the Corrupter, Creator of Corprus, Corrupted Creator, Corner of the House of Trouble, Lord of Domination, the King of Rape.

**Namira **- The Daedric Prince of Ancient Darkness, the Spirit Daedra, the Eater of Children.

**Nocturnal** - The Daedric Prince of Night, Mistress of Night, Mother of Thieves, Lady of Ravens, Lady Luck.

**Peryite** - The Daedric Prince of Pestilence, the Taskmaster, The Lord of Lower.

**Sanguine** - The Daedric Prince of Debauchery, the Lord of Sin, Master of Sins.

**Vaermina** - The Daedric Prince of Nightmares, Lady of Evil Omens, the Dream-lady, The Collector of Minds.

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All of this is part of the **Elder Scrolls franchise**, owned by **Bethesda** game studios. I made absolutely NONE of it up (not creative enough for that, man) and I just freaking love it a lot, so I mashed it and Tsubasa (we all know that's the sandbox of our dear **CLAMP**) together to make a big cool story of my own self indulgence.

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Glossary of crap I've said that people might not get (will be added to over the chapters):

**An Amulet of Mara **(mentioned in Amativ: Fai): Mara's the goddess of love. Wearing an Amulet of Mara is basically saying "I'm ready for marriage. Someone hit me up."

**[Seriously, if you're reading this and there's something you don't get: come here, or fail that, message me.  
Failing that, look it up. As the story goes on, this'll be added to. Everything will be explained (albeit vaguely unless necessary) in the story, but you know. Background information is always helpful, I guess.]**


End file.
